William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
Written at OstendWilliam Lisle Bowles (17621850)
H
As when at opening morn, the fragrant breeze
Breathes on the trembling sense of pale disease
So piercing to my heart their force I feel!
And hark! with lessening cadence now they fall!
And now along the white and level tide,
They fling their melancholy music wide;
Bidding me many a tender thought recall
Of summer days, and those delightful years
When from an ancient tower in life’s fair prime,
The mournful magic of their mingling chime
First waked my wondering childhood into tears!
But seeming now, when all those days are o’er,
The sounds of joy once heard and heard no more.